


Trinkets

by Rosie_Rues



Series: The Rising Storm [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1977, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-17
Updated: 2005-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_Rues/pseuds/Rosie_Rues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before his O.W.Ls start and Regulus can't sleep...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trinkets

Wilkes was snoring: slow, heavy snorts. Regulus, whose shoulders were locked tight with worry, wondered how he could sleep at all. After a while, he wondered if it was worth cursing him to stop the noise. The rest of the dorm would be grateful and if he got expelled the morning before his O.W.Ls started his mother couldn’t blame him if he didn’t do as well as Sirius. Or Narcissa. Or Bella. Or even Andromeda who, despite being a blood-traitor, had inherited the family talents in full.

Why did all Blacks have to be so bloody clever? And why did he have to be the youngest? Didn’t they know it wasn’t fair to expect him to surpass them all?

Wilkes rolled over with a heavy thud and Regulus tensed in hope. Maybe, just maybe, he’d shut up and they could all get a few hours rest before the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam which was a bloody stupid exam anyway and –

Wilkes snuffled and began to snore again, more breathily than before.

Regulus bit back a snarl and hurled himself out of bed, thrusting the curtains out of his way. He dragged his robes on over his pyjamas and grabbed his boots before padding out the the dorm and down the corridor. The common room was stifling, even though the fire had almost died down. He thought he might stay here, anyway, in the warm, dark silence.

Then someone moved and he realised that Severus was sitting beside the fire, watching him. He hated having to meet Severus’ gaze. He told himself it was because he was a half-blood and ugly but he knew it was because that cold gaze made him want to stutter out excuses, even though he’d done nothing wrong.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. “Can’t sleep, Black?”

The thought of sitting in the common room was suddenly unbearable and Regulus blurted out, “I need some fresh air.”

Severus studied him and then shrugged. “Don’t get caught.”

Regulus sneered, for show, and climbed out of the common room. The torches were low and the dungeons thick with shadows but it was mercifully cool. Barefoot, he climbed to the front hall with barely a sound, navigating as much by instinct as memory. The front doors were already open a crack. Either somebody else was breaking the rules or Hagrid was already up. He didn’t care, as long as he didn’t get caught.

The grass was cool and wet beneath his feet but Blacks, real Blacks, didn’t go out barefoot. Besides, Hagrid had been humming happily as he lumbered around the castle lately and the risk of stepping in, or on, something unpleasant far outweighed the pleasure of the grass against his feet. He propped himself against a ledge and tugged his boots on, lacing them to his knees. Only then did he head down to the lake.

Now, when no one could see him, he let himself stride. Normally he moved with languid grace, as if he was too important to rush. He hoped it disguised his height, the length of his legs and the strength he has inherited from his father. He relaxed as he stretched out, whipping over the grass. He felt confident, cocky, powerful. He felt like Sirius.

It had been almost a year since he spoke to his brother at all. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since they last had a real conversation. Perhaps they never had.

He scrabbled along the shore, keeping a wary eye on the water. At last he reached a rocky outcrop and perched at its foot, hidden from the castle.

Here in Scotland it was cold enough in the mornings that a low mist was still rising off the water. The trees on the far side of the lake were flat shadows aginst the grey blocks of mist and mountain.

In London it would already be hot, with the sky low and grey and very air heavy with the stink of muggle traffic. In two years time he would be preparing to go back there, back to what his mother calls ‘his proper place.’ Facing that, he couldn’t believe that he had ever been scared to come to Hogwarts.

He thought he should go over his notes again but he had forgoten to pick them up and it was hard to panic when the morning was grey and quiet around him.

He heard the dog before he saw it – the tick of claws on the rock and the whump-whump-whump of its breath. It flopped down on the rocks beside him, stinking of grass and lake and wet fur.

“Morning, Snuffles,” Regulus said gravely, as he always did. He knew, though he didn’t dwell on it, that Snuffles was probably a stupid thing to call a dog but he couldn’t think of anything better. His mother didn’t approve of dogs and even if she had she would never have tolerated a dog like this. Purebloods had dogs like Malfoy’s matched albino wolfhounds not big, slobbering mongrels like Snuffles. Regulus wasn’t quite sure where Snuffles came from. He was too healthy to be wild but he was sure he would have known if anyone at school had a dog. They weren’t like toads which you could lose or sit on if you weren’t careful – and really, that had been Wilkes’ fault entirely, putting his toad down where anyone-

Snuffles dropped his head on Regulus’ knee, with almost bruising force.

“Sorry, boy,” Regulus said with a grin. “I’m not in the right sort of mood for you, am I? Exams.”

If a dog could look sympathetic, Snuffles did.

“I think I was born unlucky,” Regulus said. “Tell you what, Snuffles, if I fail everything I’ll come and find you and we’ll run away to – to, well, somewhere. I’ll teach you tricks and we’ll make our fortune as the Amazing Reggie and his Wonder Dog. Wouldn’t that be good?”

Snuffles was panting in that wide-mouthed way which made him look like he was laughing even though he couldn’t be because he was only a dog and dogs didn’t understand, even wonderful dogs-

Snuffles whined, demanding attention.

“Sorry,” Regulus said again and rubbed the dog’s ears in apology. “I bet you’re a lucky dog, aren’t you, boy. You look like a lucky dog. My brother had a lucky dog, once. Not a real dog, of course. It was a cracker trinket. A little jet dog, about an inch high. It used to curl up on his windowsill and sleep. I think he’s still got it. I got a jasper lion and I threw it in the fire because it was too Gryffindor. Mother was proud.” He sighed and added, “I should have kept it. I could do with some luck.”

Snuffles sighed heavily.

Regulus laughed and shoved the dog’s head off his thigh. “I take the hint. Come on.” He pushed himself up and Snuffles took off along the shore, barking delightedly.

“Wake the whole school up, then,” Regulus muttered but his heart felt lighter. Perhaps he could talk to his father about getting a dog of his own. Between the two of them they might be able to work around Mother.

Snuffles came loping back, lugging a mossy branch. Regulus rolled his eyes and said sternly, “Is that what you call a stick?”

Al the same, he hefted it in his hand and then hurled it along the shore. It was a good throw – he wasn’t a Beater for nothing – and Snuffles went after it. Regulus chased after him, laughing.

For a while he forgot about exams and family and expectations and just enjoyed the dog’s company. He was wrestling Snuffles for the stick when he was suddenly brought back to himself by a shocked voice saying, “Padfoot?”

Regulus dropped the stick and spun defensively to see Remus Lupin standing a few metres away, staring at them. Regulus, feeling as if he had been caught doing something shameful, sneered and said, “Well, if it isn’t my brother’s keeper.”

Lupin, who looked even more sickly than he usually did, didn’t seem to have heard but after a moment he said, still staring at Snuffles, “What are you doing?”

“Exercising my dog,” Regulus said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“He is _not_ your dog.”

“Why? Is he yours?”

Lupin twisted the cuff of his robes at that and said, “Not exactly.”

Betrayal rushed through him, hot and bitter. He knew what that meant. It meant Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin and Sirius, bloody Sirius. It was the sort of thing they would do, he thought savagely. Keeping a secret dog in their dorm, exercising him at dawn, all the stupid, rule-breaking things that made Gryffindors happy.

“Padfoot, come here,” Lupin said.

Regulus, biting back tears, snapped, “Snuffles, heel!”

Snuffles lowered himself to the ground and whined unhappily, not moving. Lupin stared at him as he’d been kicked and Regulus let himself smirk a little.

“This is ridiculous,” Lupin said and then his eyes narrowed. He groped inside his robes and produced his wand. He pointed it at Snuffles and Regulus couldn’t help noticing how his hand was shaking as he said, “ _Finite Incantatem_ ”

Snuffles growled but nothing happened and Regulus said, his voice tight with fury, “Do you really think I’d have to hex a dog to make it tolerate me? That’s despicable, Lupin.”

Lupin lowered his wand and said faintly, “I apologise. I was under the illusion that dogs were loyal.”

Snuffles began to creep away and both boys snapped, “Stay!”

The mist was retreating and Regulus was becoming very aware that he was standing out here in his pyjamas and it could only be about two hours until his exam started and he hadn’t had breakfast and he really, really hated Remus Lupin who had not only helped steal his brother but seemed to want his dog as well.

“Look,” Lupin said reasonably, “it’s bloody freezing out here and I’m sure we can work out something civilised later. We can leave him at Hagrid’s and you can get some breakfast and actually, soon would be really, really good because I’m going to throw up right now.”

Regulus stepped back in alarm as the older boy doubled over. “Merlin’s sake, Lupin!”

Snuffles looked at Regulus miserably and then padded over to Lupin. He shoved his head until Lupin’s hand and the other boy levered himself up gratefully. “Thought the fresh air would help,” he said weakly to Regulus.

“I’m not carrying you back if you collapse out here,” Regulus said and stalked off towards the castle. His stomach was cold and his shoulders were all stiff again, like they had been all night.

“Slow down,” Lupin called after him weakly, “before Padfoot starts crying on my feet.”

He did _not_ want to socialise. “He won’t,” he said shortly. “Human beings are the only animals who can cry.”

“I assume that doesn’t apply to magical creatures. Banshees, after all.”

Regulus shrugged, irritated.

“And phoenixes. And doxies, I think.”

“If you are trying to help me revise, please refrain. Doxies don’t cry.”

There was a long silence and then Lupin said, “What exam is it today?”

“Defence,” Regulus said.

“Oh, you ought to do well at that,” Lupin said and there was a sly note in his voice that made Regulus whirl to face him.

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Lupin said mildly, looking at Snuffles.

Regulus hated this. There was some competition here but he didn’t know the rules. He looked at Snuffles who whined at Lupin. Lupin sighed and then said, “Sorry. This must be a stressful time for you.”

“Not at all,” Regulus said. “Some of us don’t have to work ourselves sick to get straight O’s.”

Lupin flushed and Regulus, feeling he finally had the upper hand, added sweetly, “But, of course, you failed Potions, didn’t you?”

“I got an A,” Lupin snapped and Snuffles growled at Regulus.

Regulus stared at them both, the boy and the dog he was leaning on, and bit into his lip to force the tears away. “Fuck it,” he said. “Keep your bloody dog, Lupin. I don’t give a shit.” And he stormed away from them, his robes swirling behind him.

~Ω~

  
Lupin was not at breakfast and Regulus was petty enough to hope he was retching his toenails out somewhere. A couple of times he thought he caught Sirius staring at him down the length of the hall but every time he looked properly his brother had turned away. At last he did his best to ignore the Gryffindor table and forced himself to choke down his porridge. It was poor exam technique not to eat breakfast.

At last they all filed out of the hall. The Slytherins gathered in a corner to wait, their backs to the other houses. Regulus stood beside Wilkes and listened to his housemates murmuring facts, over and over, like a lullaby. He wished they would hurry up and let them into the Hall again. Surely, it couldn’t take the house elves that long to move a few tables around.

A warm hand grasped his shoulder and an anxious voice said, “Reggie?”

Only his family called him that and he tensed and turned. It couldn’t be-

But it was. Sirius grinned at him, nervously, and said, “Yeah, um, good luck and stuff, y’know. You’ll be fine.”

Regulus couldn’t pull the words out to reply but just stared at his brother. Sirius shrugged and shoved something into his hand. “For luck. You ought to have something.” Then he dashed away to where Potter and Pettigrew were waiting, looking bewildered.

Regulus blinked after him, oblivious to his housemates’ whispers. Then he looked down to see what Sirius had given him.

The little jet dog barked silently and then hunched down on his palm, grinning up at him.

Regulus gasped but then McGonagall was calling them in and he had no more time to wonder.


End file.
